The Church That Christ Is Building
When Jesus said He would build His church, He wasn’t speaking about brick and mortar. He was speaking about people—redeemed, gifted, and united by His grace. Ephesians gives us a front-row seat to this beautiful vision, revealing both the foundation and the function of the church. In Ephesians 4, Paul paints a picture of what Jesus meant: a church unified in love and truth, made strong through the presence and power of Christ.
Verses 7–10 show us something often overlooked—before Jesus ascended in power, He descended in humility. This isn’t a theological footnote; it’s the cornerstone of our hope. Jesus left heaven to enter our brokenness, suffered death, and conquered it. No one else could do this. Scriptures like Acts 2:24 and 1 Peter 3 remind us: death couldn’t hold Him. He holds the keys to death and the grave. The God who stoops down to raise the needy (Psalm 113) didn’t just condescend—He incarnated, died, and rose, offering a hope unlike any other.
This descent and ascent are not only theologically vital—they’re deeply personal. Jesus experienced the pain of death so He could meet us in our own. He conquered what we fear most, and because of His resurrection, we are not left alone in grief or despair. When we face loss, we cling to the truth that Jesus entered the grave and rose again, not just for Himself, but for us. The One who died now lives forever, and He assures us that death doesn’t get the final word.
Upon ascending, Jesus gave gifts to the Church—not random blessings, but purposeful roles to equip His people. Apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers weren’t given for prestige, but for preparation. Their purpose? To equip every believer to do God’s work and build up the Church. This is not a stage-audience relationship but a team dynamic where every member is active. As Ephesians 2:10 reminds us, we are God’s masterpiece, created for good works. Leaders are not celebrities—they’re coaches, helping broken people find restoration and purpose.
This equipping leads somewhere: maturity. Paul says this growth will continue until we reach unity in faith and in knowing Christ deeply. Maturity isn’t about spiritual superiority—it’s about stability. Immaturity makes us vulnerable to every new trend or teaching. Spiritual fads, religious blending, and cultural compromise can all lead us astray if we don’t know what we believe. That’s why the Church must be a place of deep discipleship, not shallow entertainment.
We don’t just grow in knowledge—we grow in love. Ephesians 4:15 invites us to “speak the truth in love.” But the Greek phrase goes deeper—“truthing in love.” It’s not just about talking right; it’s about living truthfully and lovingly. Truth without love can crush. Love without truth can mislead. But together, they create a climate where people thrive, relationships deepen, and Christ is seen clearly. This kind of community isn’t easy, but it’s the one Jesus is building.
The Church’s power doesn’t come from programs or personalities. It comes from its Head—Christ. We don’t grow into independence but deeper dependence on Jesus. He isn’t just a figurehead; He’s the source of our life, the center of our unity, and the guide for our mission. He holds us together and empowers each part of the body to function for the good of the whole. When each member contributes, the body grows in health, strength, and love.
This vision matters because the Church is Christ’s presence in the world today. We are His body—His hands and feet. Jesus is still building His Church, and He’s using people like you and me to do it. Broken, gifted, equipped, and growing—we are part of something far bigger than ourselves. And because Jesus descended, rose, and reigns, we can move forward with bold, joyful hope.
As we respond to this message, may communion remind us of the descent and ascent of Christ. May prayer lead us deeper into dependence on Him. And may we, the Church that Christ is building, grow stronger, healthier, and more loving as we reflect Him in our world.